Yours, not mine
by lighthouseslikestars
Summary: Roy Mustang knew of Edward and Alphonse Elric many years before actually meeting them. An encounter with Van Hohenheim, right after Ishval, changed his life.


Ishval had been rough.

That was a big ass understatement and Roy himself knew it. But in his twenty-three years of life he had never once thought he would end up going to war, even if the path he had chosen for himself was one in which war seemed to always be involved. He had thought more of the paperwork and less of the confrontation. A part of him always knew it was inevitable, he was never thinking far off from reality, but choosing to ignore it had not helped.

He wondered if anything ever could. He wondered if there was anything that could have prevented it.

It didn't matter at that point in his life, nothing really did. He didn't even dream anymore. He left his idealistic side behind and focused on the gruesome truth: he took innocent lives, he contributed to a mass bloodshed and now he just wished to die. Hughes stopped him twice now and everytime it ended in screaming and tears. Harsh scolding was also involved but he didn't care, at some point he always stopped listening and Maes just kept on trying. Easy for him to say, he would always think bitterly but he knew that it was unfair. His friend had gone through the exact same Hell but he was stronger than he could ever be. And maybe Roy just envied that strength to pull through no matter what and his capacity to fall in love.

He was in love too, but he knew it was useless. Military laws were not kind and that was not news.

So there he was, sipping on some whiskey one Sunday night at the calmest bar in Central. He wanted to kill himself but he felt as if he didn't even have the energy anymore.

"Another refill?" The bartender wondered and Roy had to keep himself from rolling his eyes. He just nodded and stared as alcohol was being poured into his glass.

"I don't think that's good for you." A male's voice spoke right next to him and Mustang actually flinched. He quickly turned his head and noticed a long haired blond man sitting on his left, nursing some beverage himself "You seem to young to be in a place like this."

"I'm not young." Roy looked back into his glass, ignoring the twinge of fear he felt. He could have sworn there was no one around, he had never seen the man even enter the place.

"Excuse me, then. You look young." The man then took off his glasses and grabbed an old piece of cloth to clean the lenses "It is quite late. I'm sure someone's bound to be worried about you."

"I didn't come here to make conversation." Roy replied harshly, not wanting to be bothered during such a moment. He even stopped drinking, not fully understanding why.

"I'm sorry then, you looked like you needed it."

A big hand was suddenly in his line of vision and Roy blinked before turning his head to look at the other.

"Excuse me?"

"My name is Van Hohenheim. It's a pleasure meeting you, Mr…"

"Roy Mustang." The young man said, not caring anymore, as he shook the other's hand. It felt strange.

"Mr. Mustang." Hohenheim smiled a bit before gently letting the hand go and sipping on his drink once again "It's a sad night, huh?"

"You don't say." Roy muttered as he looked back to his glass, but he didn't drink anymore. He wanted to be sober for whatever this was.

"War's finally over, huh?" Hohenheim then said and Roy snapped his head to look at him "It should be time to celebrate but all I see is despair."

"Yeah." He muttered again but didn't turn away.

"Everyone is so sad. I imagine it's not easy." He continued speaking "Soldiers have it hard, huh?"

"Soldiers and State Alchemists are just dogs. We wag our tails for them. That's all there is to it."

"Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist. Youngest State Alchemist to gain his certification, huh?" Hohenheim looked at him "That is something to be proud of."

"My flames killed innocent people, I doubt there's anything to be proud of." Roy said before he could stop himself. Why was he opening up to him?

"You are not to blame for this war."

"I could have done something."

"You went to war so you could do something in the future."

Roy's eyes widened "What?"

Hohenheim then put his hand in his pocket to fish out his wallet. He searched through it for a bit before pulling out a small photograph. He handed it to the young alchemist who could only blink and take it.

It was a picture of the man himself holding in between his hands a smiling golden eyed child. A brown haired woman was right next to him holding a small baby "Why are you showing me this?" Roy wondered, not giving the picture back just yet.

"That's my family. I abandoned them not long ago."

"What?" Roy frowned "Why are you even telling me this?"

"The older kid is Edward and the baby is Alphonse. Edward is four years old now and Alphonse is three." Hohenheim spoke carelessly, as if trying to distance himself from any feelings.

"Why are you telling me this? You don't know me! Why would you even show me a picture of your family and tell me such a thing?"

"Maybe it's my way of repenting for the sins I've committed." Hohenheim smiled for a second "Maybe it's to help you."

"Help me?" Roy tried handing the photo back but the man shook his head.

"You saw many kids like them death back in Ishval, right?" He didn't stutter and didn't seem to care about the glare he got back "But this nation needs to protect their children. I bet someone like you, who has seen and done so much wouldn't want to see another war ever again, much less one that involves kids and babies."

"Of course not. But it doesn't matter anymore, I'm retiring. And you have to go back to your children or they will hate you." He slammed the picture down on the counter and the man grabbed it gently and put it back where it had been.

"There's no going back for me. Neither for you." Hohenheim then stood up and handed the bartender some money "It's on me." He smiled at Roy.

"Wait, what just happened?" Roy stood up as well and followed the man as he left the bar "Who are you? Why did you tell me all of that? I don't get it."

"You really don't like not understanding things, huh?" Hohenheim didn't even turn to look at him but he stopped walking "You can use your flames to protect children like Ed and Al. You can change this nation, isn't that what you want?" He smirked even if the younger man couldn't see him "I guess I just wanted to show you something that would make you stand up on your own two feet again." He then turned around to face Roy.

Roy suddenly felt his body becoming heavier, as if he couldn't even stand on his own in spite of what the man had just said. He frowned and blinked rapidly but his eyes kept on getting blurry no matter what he did. He then pressed his hand against his head as it started pounding.

Hohenheim's voice sounded distant as if he was speaking far away from him.

The last thing he saw was the man's back as he walked away before the world turned black for him.

Eight years later, Roy sighed deeply as his office door was suddenly opened and heavy steps entered behind lightest ones.

"Nii-san!" Alphonse voice resonated through the metal armor. Edward didn't pay attention and just walked over to the Colonel's desk to drop a badly handwritten report on it. Roy arched an eyebrow.

"Good morning, Alphonse. Hagaren? Do you call this a report?" He said as he grabbed the paper.

"Good morning, Colonel Mustang." Alphonse spoke politely as he bowed respectfully. The man waved his hand, signaling him to stop being so formal.

"You wanted it fast, so I made it as fast as I could. It's your fault." The twelve year old boy then walked to one of the couches to sit down on it.

Roy blinked as he read the report before sighing heavily "Next time try not to use crayons to write an official military paper." He put it on the side before grabbing another sheet from his stack to continue signing.

"Hey, again you wanted it fast. It was the only thing I had at hand." His golden eyes then turned sad "Another false lead."

"I'm sorry." Roy was quick to say "I had hoped it was not this time around."

"It's not your fault, Colonel Mustang."

"Maybe next time." The man said and he quickly looked up when he heard a loud metallic gasp "Alphonse?"

"Happy birthday, Colonel Mustang!" The boy then said excitedly.

Roy blinked before chuckling "Thank you, Alphonse."

"How does it feel turning thirty-one, huh? I bet your joints started hurting lately." Edward teased and the man put his pen down before resting his chin on his hand.

"How does it feel being so small I can barely see you over this tiny stack of papers?" He teased with a warm smirk.

"Who are you calling so damn short you need a magnifying glass to see him?!" Edward jumped from his seat and started yelling profanities. Mustang laughed as Alphonse tried to calm his brother down.

Yeah, Hohenheim had been right back then, even if he still didn't understand how the man had known such a thing.

"Those kids are yours."


End file.
